Agaat - Marlene van Niekerk [224]
I try everything. Today pulled her in an apple box cart (OuKarel’s handiwork with a strap around the legs and across the chest so that she can’t escape) to the dam. Sat by the water’s edge. Won’t look, won’t see. Showed her the whirligigs again, ducklings, everything that she should be able to recognise, but she shows no reaction. Pulled her to the drift, showed her the little boat, one day we’ll row in it, I say, but the neck stays between the shoulders.
Dug up a cap because the head looks bad, all bare like that and full of sores. She doesn’t like things on her head it seems, she pulls it off when I’m not looking, at least it’s a sign of life.
Gave her worm medicine. Soiled her panties something dreadful. Scolded and gave a good hiding with the duster handle, what’s the use? She’s very far behind her age I think. Could see the worms, flat pieces of tapeworm, round dog-worms.
Ordered nappies from the chemist, waterproof drawers. Wet her bed three nights running. Mattress ruined. Had fourth bath, still tightly-rolled into a bundle. Pitch would sooner soak out of a ship than the stiffness in this child’s limbs. Can’t reach anywhere with the washcloth. She keeps her head pulled in, arms rigid against the body, knees clenched together.
21 December
Aspatat has a cold! Coughing and snottering. Must be from the first washing there in the dam on Goedbegin. Fancy a bit more co-operation with the eating, maybe because the nose is blocked, so she has to open her mouth to breathe. At least she’s swallowing better. Jaws more relaxed. Must start with proteins. Today fish oil and vitamin C. Hellish battle. Gave malt syrup and lecithin on porridge. Sweet things do the trick, it seems. Will have to start using it as reward.
Sawed a hole in the door of the back room. Had Dawid install an old copper post-box flap over the slit. I must be able to see what she does when she’s alone. Suspect she’s sly, suspect she’s pretending to be stupid. Remembered the hessian sack Lys gave along, put it in the room with her. She looks at it for hours. Doesn’t move.
Head-sores healing nicely.
Went and dug up my old children’s books in the cellar. Read rhymes to her. Who’d have thought that! I remember them bit-by-bit as I come across them.
Old mumblemould
I have a cold
I have it now
I give it to you
I tie it up here
And I’m in the clear.
Jak says I’m wasting my time and why am I spoiling our Christmas? I ask where is your faith, where is your heart? I possess neither the one nor the other, I do it exclusively for myself, for nobody else, he says. I don’t dare use other people for my own purposes like that, he says. I’ll see what comes of it, apparently.
He’s just jealous, feels neglected. I devote all my free time to her.
Must succeed in this, I must make it work, make it worthwhile.
It feels as if the whole world is against me. First Mother, now Jak.
Must go and see the dominee about this, the child can’t stay so nameless.
22 December
Now I have a cold! Must have got it from her. Jak says it’s but the beginning. He doesn’t want to go anywhere near her. She gives him the creeps, he says, the idea gives him the creeps. He says I’m sick. He taps against his head when I peer through the slot at what she’s doing. What a whopper of a Christmas present I’ve got, he says. Unto us a child is born, unto us a woolly’s given, out loud down the passage, I say, Jak bethink yourself, what if she can hear and understand you?
Perhaps after all better get to the doctor if he can still see me before Christmas. Her poo is completely yellow from all the runny food she’s eating.
Made red jelly and custard, showed it to her dished up in a bowl and said if she was good and allowed me to wash her nicely in the bath, she could have it. She’s still not looking at me, but it does seem as if she hears me. (Must have ears tested. Deaf and dumb perhaps? I remember the funny high squeaking sounds. Retarded